The Other Side
by amianfan102
Summary: Ian's off his rocker, anyone can tell. Since the death of his beloved Amelia Hope Cahill, he's been speaking of taboo things...hearing ghosts and communicating with the other side. But Nellie's beginning to think that there's more to it than he's letting on. Rated T for mentions of character death, though it's not as heart-wrenching as you may think! One-shot for my return to FF!


**OMG HOW I'VE MISSED YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE OF FANFICTION! Sorry I've been gone soooo long! But I'm back now, hopefully for good. My mission is to finish the Chauffer within a few months... **

**This is my "coming home" piece, lol! **

**WARNING::::This is my FIRST TIME: I repeat my FIRST TIME writing in present tense... it may suck. **

**The Other Side**

"Are you coming?" Dan manages to choke out.

For a moment, there is nothing but silence. And then, with slow, jerky movements, Ian raises one finger to his lips in a sign of silence. "I can hear her."

Four pairs of eyes swivel to look at his un-normally ashen face.

"What do you mean?" Hamilton asks quietly. "Hear…._Amy?"_

Ian nods, a movement barely seen by the astounded Cahills watching him. "Listen," is all he says before leaning back on the chair and closing his eyes.

Sinead, Hamilton, Dan, and Nellie exchange dubious glances. "Ian," Nellie starts quietly, her voice filled with concern, "I really don't think – "

Before she can finish, Ian's eyes fly open, flashing angrily in the dimmed light. "Don't tell me she isn't here! I can tell she is! Maybe you people have already given up on her, but I haven't, and I know she hasn't given up on me!"

An uncomfortable silence fills the room, broken only by the sound of Sinead's tears beginning to fall, her breathing growing ragged. Hamilton wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her out of the room after a quick glare at Ian. With a meaningful glance at Nellie, Dan exits after them, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

Nellie takes a deep breath, trying to look Ian in the eye. His gaze reminds her of a rippling lake. The waves of confusion and occasional madness filter in and out, in and out, creating a ripple effect of emotions.

All traces of his formal upbringing thrown out the window, Ian looks up at Amy's former au pair with a searching and haunting look in his eyes. "She really does speak to me, Nellie. Don't you believe me? Or do you think I'm as crazy as the doctors say?" Ian looks down at the floor, his voice turning bitter.

Gulping nervously, Nellie looks him directly in the eye – something that has been hard to do ever since…. "Look, Ian, I'm going to be blunt about this. Are you coming with us to the island to scatter her…."

"Ashes." Ian looks at her as well. "It's okay to say it. I know her body is dead. It's her soul that isn't, and that's what matters." A dreamy smile passes across his face for a moment, causing Nellie to shift back awkwardly. She's never been in such close proximity to Ian, let alone a mentally unstable Ian. "Amy's on the bridge. She doesn't know whether or not she should pass over."

Startled at his statement, Nellie blinks a few times. "Are you saying Amy speaks to you from Heaven?"

Surprising her, Ian laughs slightly. "No! Where'd you get _that _idea? I'm not _that_ insane, no matter what the psychiatrists say. I can only speak to her because she's still on the bridge. The water is rippling, making waves. She's scared the bridge will fall because of it while she passes it."

Nellie blinks. "Do you mean when she crosses or goes over the bridge?"

Ian just stares at her, confused. "Of course not. She doesn't cross the bridge – she needs to pass it."

Deciding he's starting to speak gibberish like he does with the doctors, Nellie starts to back out of the room.

"No – wait!" Ian lunges forward slightly, catching himself before he can grab her arm. "Please – please don't leave! They all do. I can never speak to anyone….they're always leaving. Natalie hasn't spoken to me in ages…."

Thinking this might be a breakthrough, Nellie asks hopefully, "Is leaving like passing?"

He shakes his head. "No. You have to be…._there _to pass. On the bridge. Like Amy."

Realization dawns on Nellie. "Do you mean that because Amy is dead, she's scared to pass over to the other side of the bridge where the others are? Like her parents and grandmother?"

An ecstatic grin breaks out on Ian's face. "You got it! The doctors don't understand me. They think that talking to people who are almost on the others side doesn't exist. But I know it does."

"You speak to peoples' ghosts?"

Frustration lights up Ian's gaze. "No! She's not a ghost….she's her _soul, _I guess is how you would describe it…. And I can only talk to _her_. No one else, even though they try." A thoughtful expression clouds his eyes. "But maybe if I tried, I could talk to them, too."

"Do you think you could speak to her parents and ask them to tell her to pass over?" Nellie asks, not sure how to handle the new found news of Ian's supposedly psychic ability.

"I'm not sure," Ian murmurs. "It's much more difficult speaking to people on the other side of the bridge, the ones who have already passed…. But I suppose I could try." Ian glances at her. "And besides, Arthur and Hope are already urging her to cross. So is Grace."

Nellie blinks. "But why doesn't she go?"

"She's scared." Ian shrugs. "Arthur, Grace, and Hope can't really speak to her yet – they are on the other side of the bridge. But they kind of light the way for her….a bit like a lighthouse."

Now in awe, Nellie smiles sadly. "Is she happy?"

"No," Ian says simply. "But she would be if she passed."

"Can't you tell her that?"

"No," he repeats. "I can try, but she's so nervous."

"Will spreading her ashes on the final resting place of her ancestors help, do you think?" Nellie asks, thinking of the island where the Cahills were going to spread her ashes.

"Perhaps." Ian sits back down on the couch. "I wonder…." He gives her a grin like they're sharing a secret. "See, you can tell I'm not crazy."

His gaze wavers again. "Amy, you can tell I'm not crazy, right?" He pauses, then grins. "I'm not crazy," Ian repeats. "Not crazy."

Now realizing his sanity has snapped once again, Nellie backs out of the room, sending his attendants back in.

**~lovelovelove~**

_Fog. Can't see. Just a glow on the other side. Water racing. Ian, bridge is quivering. Ian, can you hear me? Ian, will it snap? Ian, what should….? Ian, are you there? Fog. Mist. Light on the other side. Shaking bridge. Does it get steadier….? IAN!_

"Amy!" Ian shoots back to consciousness. "Amy?"

Gazes of the two doctors stare reassuringly back at him. "Has she been speaking to you again?"

Blinking in confusion, still coming out of the daze, Ian realizes what's happening. "Yes."

Quickly, the brown haired one – possibly his name's David – jots something down on a notepad. "Ian, do you realize this is all in your head?"

"That's what they keep telling me," Ian replies sullenly. "But I know I'm not crazy."

Getting up from his bed, he runs his hands through his hair on his way to the shower. "Amy, would you tell them I'm not crazy?"

_Love, I can't. A wall….of mist. You know I can't. It's a barrier between them….and me…..us._

"And it will stay that way until you pass," Ian tells her, stepping into the shower, the frigid water running.

Letting out a gasp, Ian stands there beneath the freezing water shivering. Within a few minutes, his head starts to clear, bringing his head out of the fog.

Then, Ian cries. "Love, why? Why aren't you here? And why do I have to be crazy because of it?"

He sits on the edge of the shower, still in his clothes, sobbing into his hands. The light touch of his lovely Amy's caress brushes against his cheek. "Amy, Amy, I think I'm insane. I talk to dead people. I don't ever feel…_.clear_ unless I'm freezing to death or I have that God-forsaken blade in my hands..."

_I'm so sorry. This is all...all my fault…._

For a moment, Ian stares at the wall of the shower. "No, of course it isn't. But I think it would be best for everyone….if you pass." Suddenly he notices a pair of bright green eyes staring back at him. A ghostly form of his love slowly appears, only half solid.

_Maybe you're right, Ian….. But you can't see it. _The shape of Amy's pale lips move silently as she speaks wordlessly to him. _It's terrifying at first…_

Ian grabs out at the air, hoping that for once, he'll feel something. But there is only space. Cold, empty, unforgiving space where the hands of his darling Amy should be. "Your parents."

Amy's glimmer of form shifts as she turns to look at him more, glinting as she does so. _My parents? Where are they? Shouldn't they be here with me?_

He shakes his head no. "They're waiting for you. Grace and your parents and everyone you've ever lost are waiting for you on the other side. They need for you to come over!"

Her form glimmers in the cold air as she takes a step back. Ian isn't quite sure, but a different look passes across her face. Almost like realization.

_That's what it is! Ian…..you see! That's the light! _Her words are filled with a giddy sense of realization as she processing this information. _I can go! Finally!_

"Don't forget me," is all Ian says, his eyes surprisingly dry. He had expected himself to cry. Sob, even. Not this hardened sense of rightness.

_I could never forget you, _are Amy's last words as she starts to fade gently into oblivion. _Just make sure you don't forget me._

There's a crashing noise as Ian's unconscious form hits the ground. Ten minutes later, the doctors find him there, still sopping wet.

**~lovelovelove~**

"So is he coming?" Jonah asks Nellie.

She shrugs. "The doctors found him passed out in his bathroom, freezing cold and soaking wet – chilled to the bone. They think that he tried to freeze clarity into himself."

"Basically he's off his rocker," Dan says, walking over to the tree they're standing under with Hamilton. There's a dead, hollow look in his eyes, and his voice is brittle and weak.

The rest of the family isn't there. Many aren't able to get to the island on such a short notice, even for something as important as their business there.

"I don't know," Nellie puts in with slight grimace. "I don't think he's actually crazy. For all I know, maybe he really does speak to ghosts."

Hamilton nods. "He just seemed a bit unstable."

Sinead nods yes slowly. "There _is _a scientific probability that ghosts do exist."

Dan shoots her a look before looking at the jar in her hand. "Can we not talk about Ian's messed up head while we're about to spread my sister's ashes?"

"Maybe we should," Jonah mutters uncomfortably, not wanting to offend the grieving brother. "You know how crazy they were about each other."

Sinead finally snaps. Her hard interior is crumbling, Nellie can see. "I just CAN'T take this!" she screams, tugging on the ends of her hair. "All this talk of Amy and what she used to do and who she loved. It's making me CRAZY! Next you know I'll be as bad as IAN!"

Nellie watches as she falls into a heap at the base of the tree, sobbing into her knees which are pulled up to her chin. Her hands wrap around her legs like she's trying to give herself a hug.

Wishing she could do something, but not knowing how, Nellie looks on as Hamilton drops down next to her, putting an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"If only Fiske were here with us," she murmurs only to herself. "He'd know what to do."

Silence greets this. Of course, everyone agrees, but there's nothing left to say. "Can we just start, already." It's not a question, and Jonah and Dan seem to understand this.

Just as Dan starts to reach down to Sinead to retrieve the ashes, there's a sound from behind the tree. "Sorry I'm late."

For a moment, Nellie, along with the rest of the group, just stops. Then, she turns around. There, standing impeccably dressed and groomed as always, is Ian Kabra. He looks at her with an amused gleam in his eyes as though they're sharing a secret, and he raises one finger to his lips with a wink before she says anything.

"I apologize," he says smoothly, straightening his tie. Nellie suddenly feels subconscious in her jeans and blouse. She hadn't thought to dress up for it. "But my doctors wouldn't let me leave the house until they were sure I was stable. Of course, maybe I'm not. Who knows?" Ian gives a shrug, though a ghost of a smile shadows his lips.

Dan glares at him before saying, "You have a lot of nerve showing up here after not talking to us since she died. We could've used it, Kabra."

Ian winces, then looks at Dan and says, "You have no clue what I've been through, Daniel. You may think you have, but you haven't. I have seen what most people will never, and have done things that have been deemed obviously taboo. And your sister's death nearly killed me – in a way, I wish it had."

Nellie looks at Dan for a sign of a reaction, but with the exception of a barely perceptible nod, he steps back and croaks out, "You should do it. She would have wanted it that way."

He hands Ian the jar of ashes, the mere action bringing tears to Nellie's eyes. "No," Ian says, holding one hand on the jar and Dan with another on it, holding it together. "We all should."

One by one, the Cahills take turns scattering the ashes into the wind. Nellie goes last, the breeze blowing it swiftly into a swirl of ash in the light sky.

And one by one, the Cahills' eyes widen, with the exception of Ian, as they hear a faint, _Never forget me! _in the wind.

"Was that – " Dan starts.

"Did you – " Hamilton and Sinead begin, wonderstruck.

"What the – " Jonah exclaims.

But all Nellie does is look up at Ian, surprising gracing her face.

And all Ian does is give her a wink and say, "She passed," with a knowing smile on his face.

Then he turns, walking past the gravestones of his ancestors, past the limitations of the Cahills, and past the thought that his love is gone. Because she passed, Nellie realized, and so should we.

**Soooo...there you have it. I'm actually very proud of this piece, so if you guys could be so kind as to not flame? Thank you!**

**Anyway, I'll be updating The Chauffer (sp?) shortly! Thanks so much for reading!**

**~Dani :D**


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